


Waking Up to the Future

by CheyanneChika



Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alexander Hamilton as Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Marvel Avengers Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff and Crack, Gen, George Washington in the position of Nick Fury, John Laurens as Steve Rogers, Marvel Universe, No One Reads My Tags | Tag Wranglers Read Your Tags, time travel-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:53:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyanneChika/pseuds/CheyanneChika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of a rewrite of the scene at the end of "Captain America: the First Avenger" where Cap wakes up from the ice but with the characters from Hamilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up to the Future

**Author's Note:**

> For B, who let me sort (rant) out my ideas for this fic.

The first thing John Laurens registered was the air.  It was still and tepid and silent.  That ruled out the plane, a submarine, any field tent in Europe, a hospital or the icy North Arctic waters that he distinctly remembered hitting.

What it did not rule out was a science lab, an enemy’s base or a soundproofed holding cell.  All three of those scenarios were very bad for anyone to wake up in having not started there.  Without opening his eyes or changing his breathing pattern, he shifted one wrist, then the other. Then his left ankle, followed by his right.  No bindings on any of them and he could tell by the lack of pressure that nothing was holding down his chest.  He swallowed dryly.  With no sound, distinct smell or taste, and nothing to touch save the cot—bed?—under his loosely flexed fingertips, he realized there was nothing for it and opened his eyes, just a slit.

The room was that beige-y shade of off-white that’s supposed to be soothing.  He opened his eyes wider when no one appeared to be in the room.  He looked left and right for observation windows but, again, there was nothing but a reular window overlooking New York City.  For all intents and purposes, this appeared to be a private room in a swanky hospital.

There were plenty of things wrong with this scenario, first and foremost being the utter silence.  His ears were more sensitive than most and he should have heard something.  When he was still not acknowledged, he sat up and took a better look around.  Just the windo and door and something small and black in the ceiling corner opposite the door.  He got to his feet cautiously and went to the window to peer out of it.  He seemed to be three or four stories up and looked out at New York as it grew around him.

But…something was wrong.  The world outside looked…well, flat, for lack of a better word.  Like an image.  A moment in time, frozen forever.

Frozen…

He shivered and shoved thoughts of the cold, pain and crushing pressure of water and ice pushing down on him, trapping him…he shoved harder as his mind desperately clung to the word frozen.  That was it.  Nothing moved in the window.  Where were the birds, the flapping flags, the flutter of trees in even the faintest of breezes?

“He’s already figured it out, Washington.  He’s Captain fucking America.  You just had to add that damned window, never mind using Jefferson’s tech to make it.  Jesus, even Adams knows better than to use anything with Jeff’s name on it when he needs to be subtle and he hates me.”

John perked up at the thick New Yorker accent coming faintly through the wall opposite the window.  He didn’t hear the response, but he suspected it was because the speaker had been fairly shouting.

John turned to face the other wall and smirked, his reckless side getting the better of him.  “Whoever this Jefferson person is, he did a poor job.  There’re no birds, no breeze and—” he glanced back at the window to double check before finishing “Last time I checked, If I can see the Empire State and the Chrysler buildings from this angle and distance, I should not be able to see the Rockefeller Center between them.”

There was a short silence in which John wondered if the New Yorker and whomever he had been speaking to were gone before a loud peal of laughter erupted from the other side of the wall.

“I like you, John Laurens,” the New Yorker said, is voice much louder and grating as it filled the room from a speaker John couldn’t see.

The closed door on his right opened and he looked around, taking in a man with olive skin, dark hair in a horse tail and a goatee.  He grinned widely and stuck out a hand, dropping his suitcase to land with a loud thunk beside him.  “Alexander Hamilton.”

John took it automatically, his southern gentlemanly tendencies taking over.  “John Laurens.  Pleasure to meet you.”

John pulled his eyes away, with effort, to look beyond the door where an older man, bald and austere, stood watching them, his arms crossed so tightly that John bet the other man’s leather duster would creak if he unfolded.

“That’s Washington, our venerable boss man—“

“Who you don’t ever listen to.”

“—who I don’t ever listen to,” Hamilton finished as if that was what he intended to say all along.

“…You just listened to him,” John told him.

Hamilton scowled.  Washington let out a grunt that could have been a laugh or indigestion.

John licked his lips and resisted the urge to put his hands in his pockets and shuffle his feet.  “So, what is this place?  A bunker?”

“What makes you think this is a bunker?” Washington asked carefully.

John shrugged.  “The door’s open, but I still can’t hear anything other than you two.  You went through the trouble to fake a window, badly, but you did give the appearance that we were higher up, which would make more sense than ever being on the ground floor of any building in New York City." 

“Well, hate to break it to you, Captain Who, but we are on the ground floor and soundproofing has gotten a way lot better since you were last in the good ol’ US of A.”

“Hamilton,” Washington said, his voice icy with warning.

John didn’t bother asking what Hamilton meant by Captain Who and instead absorbed everything the handsome young man said as truth.  Which is why he bolted.

“Can I, sir?”  Hamilton asked, watching Captain America’s lovely behind before it rounded a corner.

“No,” Washington snapped.

“Please?” he wheedled.

Glass smashed and people started to yell.

“Hamilton…”

“Come on.”

An alarm started to blare and the fire suppressant sprinklers spattered to life drenching them and ruining Washington’s leather coat.  He liked that coat.  “Fine,” he gritted out.

“Yes!” Alex yelled, grabbing and activating the suitcase suit.  Washington covered his face with a large hand as the repulsors fired up and he took off after Laurens. 

“And somebody turn that water off,” he roared, stalking from the room.

Laurens saw an emergency exit and made for it.  He just hoped what Hamilton had said really was true and that he was on the ground floor.  He pushed the bar, setting off an alarm and leapt into an alley.  There was garbage and dirt and all the usual stuff, but beyond it, he could see cars.  Cars like he’d never seen before.  He slowed to a walk and stepped into the light of…Times Square?  People and cars and bicycles and food stands and lights and advertisements that changed and _people._

“Whaddaya think?” asked a slightly metallic voice that still sounded like Hamilton.  John spun around to see a red and gold flying robot with glowing blue eyes and circle in his chest land beside him.  He jerked back, falling into a fighting stance.

“Calm down, it’s still me in here.” 

The _metal suit?_ slid back from its face, revealing Alexander Hamilton, grinning cheekily at him.  “You like?”

“What is it?”

“It’s armor of a sort.  I use it to fight bad guys.”

“Huh.”  The armor, ostentatious as it was, gave him something to focus on in this chaos.

Hamilton clapped him on the shoulder and the weight of the suit made even him stagger.  Hamilton chuckled.  “Welcome to 2016.  You’re in for fun ride.”

John swallowed hard and grinned back.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea spawned from a passing thought, what if Laurens was the Winter Soldier. But that will take planning...a lot of planning. In the mean time, I hope you enjoyed this little tidbit and I might make it a series if there's enough interest so let me know what you think!!!


End file.
